The Sonia Show

Writer. Podcaster. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.

I’m the worst singer in the world


Yeah, so, I would never win “American Idol” or “The Voice” or any of those singing competition songs you say you don’t watch, but you totally do.

I’m a horrible singer. I sing like Elaine from “Seinfeld” dances.

It’s really unfortunate, because I love to sing. I try not to subject others to my terrible voice. I consider it a public service. You’re welcome, everybody. I keep my singing restricted to when I’m alone in the car. Well, at least I used to.

The Spawn loves it when I sing. It’s a testament to how much that kid loves me. He is the only living thing that likes the sound of my singing voice. Everyone, and everything, else; not so much. The dog hates it. He barks and barks when I sing. It’s a testament to how awful my singing is.

I guess I don’t know a lot of baby-appropriate songs. Usually I sing “I Love To Singa” from an old cartoon. Lately, I’ve been singing “Conjunction Junction.” That’s all I got.

I’ve been trying to play more music for the Spawn. I mean other than the old-school Herbie Hancock we listen to in the car.  I’ve been playing the Beastie Boy’s instrumental album, “The Mix-Up” for him. Yesterday, we were singing and dancing to “Brick House.” Homer wouldn’t stop barking at my “singing,” so our little dance party didn’t last long.

Maybe I should start rapping? I mean, that’s basically talking set to a funky beat, right?

“If you’re having girl problems, I feel bad for you son. I’ve got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one.”


Author: The Sonia Show

I'm a writer/podcaster/mother/goober in San Francisco who likes to drink beer, shop, laugh and make other people laugh, watch old movies, feed my unhealthy obsession with pop culture, kick breast cancer's ass, go on adventures with my mighty, mighty good man David and my awesome autistic son, Calvin, wear orange and root for the San Francisco Giants, participate in general jackass-ery, talk about TV, eavesdrop on strangers' conversations, make nerdy “Star Wars” and “Simpsons” references, and post personal things about myself on the web for all to read, which makes me some sort of literary exhibitionist.

4 thoughts on “I’m the worst singer in the world

  1. So far I’ve only sung Billie Jean to the baby, substituting her name for “the kid”. I feel that it’s appropriate because she’s not a boy. I’m so droll.

  2. That’s completely appropriate.

  3. You gotta sing him stuff you like because when he gets older he’ll ask for specific songs and if you hate that song, you still have to sing it, and while you’re singing it you’ll be thinking “i hate that effing song” the whole time and it’ll make you all grumpy. Stick to songs you like.

  4. I spent the last 7 years rapping at karaoke cuz I can’t sing for shit. But I can rap like a muthafuckin’ boss. Join the dark side, Sonia.

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